


“You and Me.  Handcuffs.  Must It Always End This Way?”

by Dustbunnygirl



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Handcuffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 10:12:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7797802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dustbunnygirl/pseuds/Dustbunnygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The Doctor sighs.  A man never likes to hear the words “it’s getting embarrassing” and see that look on a woman’s face in any situation.  In bed, naked, in the middle of an otherwise vigorous round of carnal gymnastics, it’s definitely the last thing he’s hoping for.  All he can do in a situation like this is sigh and scour his brain for the appropriate apology.</p><p>For the record?  There isn’t one."</p>
            </blockquote>





	“You and Me.  Handcuffs.  Must It Always End This Way?”

River Song glares down at her husband. “It’s getting embarrassing at this point, dear,” she says, lips cast in an annoyed frown.

The Doctor sighs. A man never likes to hear the words “it’s getting embarrassing” and see that look on a woman’s face in any situation. In bed, naked, in the middle of an otherwise vigorous round of carnal gymnastics, it’s definitely the last thing he’s hoping for. All he can do in a situation like this is sigh and scour his brain for the appropriate apology.

For the record? There isn’t one.

He drops his head back against the pillows and stairs up at the bit of ceiling he can see past his wife’s plentiful curls. “It’s not as if I do it on purpose. You act like it’s the plan.”

“Of course it’s not. Don’t be silly.” River runs a hand through his own slightly wild, salt and pepper hair, then gives it a playful tug. “You don’t believe in making plans.”

One bushy eyebrow arches on the Doctor’s forehead. “Planned this trip, didn’t I?”

“And you kept canceling it at the last minute.”

“Things came up!”

“All sorts of things could have come up a lot sooner, and more frequently, if you knew how to keep a date.”

“River…” The Doctor reaches for her cheek, the short chain between the handcuffs jangling as his left hand drags his right along with it. He mutters a string of Gallifreyan expletives under his breath. One of River's delicate eyebrows arches in response. “Don’t you give me that look. And you know why I kept putting this off.”

“I know.” River pats his cheek in return and climbs off of him, padding across the room gloriously naked. For a minute, the Doctor forgets the awkwardness of the situation and just enjoys the view. Is still enjoying it, right up to the moment she grabs his shirt from the floor and pulls it on. No, actually, he still enjoys it then, too. The light of the Darillium sun coming through the open curtains casts a lovely silhouette through the fabric, outlining those too-familiar curves well. He really is a lucky man, current situation notwithstanding. “Front desk phone is 001, right?”

“Yes. But can’t you at least throw me the keys before you make the call?” He jangles the cuffs again, this time on purpose. In case she's forgotten about them.

“Oh no. I want to be sure they know this time it wasn’t me.” She cradles the receiver for the phone between her shoulder and ear. “If your bloody screwdriver had a setting for wood, we wouldn’t have this problem.” She glares at him again. “Or if someone wasn’t so enthusiastic.”

“I refuse to apologize for either of those things. Especially the last one.” The Doctor hoists himself out of bed and follows River to the window. He bends down to grab his pants and she tugs them out of his grip. “I just want my ‘bloody screwdriver’. If you won’t give me the keys, at least let me…”

River holds up her hand to shush him. “Front desk? Hi. This is the honeymoon suite again.” When the Doctor tries to make a grab for his pants, she throws them across the room. “Yes, I’m sorry, but we do need the headboard replaced again. Yes, it was the handcuffs. Four times? Really? No, I had no idea…”


End file.
